“You really think it’s smart to aggravate me right now? To insult me?” he asks, looming over me in an attempt at a threat, and it would probably be a very good one. On anyone else.
Rather than escalating my fear, my fingers loosen their grip around his forearm now that he’s closer, and I must have been holding on tighter than I realized because even in the flickering light, I can see the blood-red indents my nails left in his skin.
Unlikely to be permanent, but judging by the way he doesn’t even look at them, would he mind if they were? Would he mind the marks that are permanent on me?
“You think I’m insulting you?” I ask, repeating part of his question as my eyes remain locked on his. “While you’ve got a knife to my throat?”
He nods, still crowding into me, still pressing enough that one wrong move would have me bleeding. I grin. “Afraid only compliments come to mind.”
Similar to earlier, the suggestion has the deeply satisfying effect of making him flustered, so much so that he actually steps back, and it requires all my remaining shreds of self-control not to chase him when he does.
“Christ,” he mutters, eyeing me from the opposite side of the alley. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“A combination of things,” I say, doing my best to smooth out my rumpled clothes without having much success. “If you’re going to try your fists next, you should know I tend to favor my left side. Gives me an advantage more often than you might think.”
I look back up, only to see Aiden is now staring at the ground, shaking his head as he kneads the back of his neck with his hand. I could almost swear he’s trying not to laugh.
“Are you some kind of punishment?” he asks finally, when he has composed himself. “Some sort of retribution?”
“Why?” I ask him, curious why this would be his assumption. “What have you done?”
He shakes his head once more. “Oh…a combination of things.”
I grin, hearing my words directed back at me, and my only intention is to extend this special moment following his threats against my life when I say, “I believe it.” However, his shoulders fall, telling me he doesn’t hear it the way I meant it. Hears it instead as a censure.
“Ah,” I say, the realization dawning. “You’re religious.”
His head whips back up. “What?”
“You’re religious. Makes sense.”
His eyes narrow. “What makes sense?”
“You seem somewhat…” I take him in head to toe, thinking about the earlier blushing as well as how his entire body is currently coiled tight. “Repressed?” Unable to help myself, I also ask, “Catholic?” His jaw ticks as I seemingly strike his own vulnerability, similar to how he had unknowingly just struck mine. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“You can take it however you want.”
My eyebrows rise.
“Look,” he says, really seeming ready to take a swing at me. “I’m not here to discuss morals with the man who robbed me in this same fucking alley last night.”
“Aren’t you supposed to, though?” I counter.
“Aren’t I supposed towhat?” he responds, fatigue and irritation warring in his voice.
“Aren’t you supposed to try? To save my soul? Lead me down the path of righteousness? Bring me to my knees?” I offer,hoping that last option will appeal to him as much as it does to me. “Isn’t that your calling? As a good Catholic?”
Aiden scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Afraid you’re going to have to find God on your own.”
“Ah.” I watch closely for his reaction as I suggest, “But it’s so much more enjoyable with a partner. Sometimes even more than one.”
His mouth actually falls open a bit, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to the point of bloodshed to keep my expression neutral. After a prolonged moment, Aiden starts to say something, thinks better of it, then closes his mouth before trying again. “Would you just give me my watch so I can leave? And,Godwilling, never see you again?”
“All right,” I say easily even as his words sting, sticking my hands in my pockets and checking the contents as I walk closer. “Iamsorry, by the way. About your watch. It was wrong of me to take it.”
“You’re sorry?” He stares at me, clearly surprised by my quick agreement and likely struggling to come up with anything to say back that would be appropriate for polite company. “All that and you’resorry?”
“Yes.” I continue to watch him, weighing the two options in my pockets the closer I get. “Are you sentimental over it? The watch?”